


Strings

by GoddessofBirth



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Behind the Scenes, Gen, Season 3, The Enemy of My Enemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessofBirth/pseuds/GoddessofBirth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They meet at an all night diner just off the interstate.  If anyone were watching they might say it has that certain secretive, intense feel usually associated with an assignation.  But this is neither romantic nor sexual.</p><p>This is strategy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strings

They meet, as usual, at an all night diner just off the interstate. If anyone were watching – they aren't, both men are far too careful for those kind of things, but if they _were_ – they might say it has that certain secretive, intense feel usually associated with an assignation. But this is neither romantic nor sexual.

 

This is strategy.

 

If anyone is going to take over Beacon Hills, it's going to be Peter, not some upstart pack of alphas, hopped up on hormones and led by a man who has obviously seen too many Godfather movies. Chris has a vested interest in keeping that daughter of his safe, and since she can't – or won't – keep her hands (and mouth) off one werewolf or the other, he now has a vested interest in driving the Alpha pack away, even though he's ostensibly retired. It's a useful alliance, and Peter will admit it's a relief to speak to someone over the age of twenty-five every now and then, even if it _is_ an Argent.

 

Peter waits until the waitress takes their order - pancakes for him and an egg white omelet for Chris, and _Christ_ but the man works hard at maintaining this ridiculous illusion that he's as dull as rocks – before he opens the evening's discussion and cuts straight to the chase.

 

 “Deucalion wants Derek to kill off his pack and join them.”

 

 Chris raises one eyebrow and takes a sip of coffee – black, _boring_ , and Peter feels the urge to grab the sugar canister and dump the entire thing in Chris' mug. “Old news, Hale. We already knew that from Deaton.”

 

“Yes, _Chriiiistopher_ ,” Peter is pleased to see Chris' jaw tick as he sing songs his name. “But now they are taking steps to force his hand. Kali told the Boyd child that Derek was the one that killed Erica. Resulted in a _spectacular_ fight.”

 

“Did he? Kill Erica.”

 

Peter shrugs negligibly. Derek is a rash, hot headed brat of a child, and alphas do not handle pack abandonment well. He would give it even odds.

 

“Since I saw Boyd at the track meet tonight, I'll assume there were no casualties. Is Derek strong enough to pull the packs together to fight this? Will they listen?”

 

Peter clucks his tongue. “Derek is currently bathing in the waters of self pity, singing the song of _Woe unto me I hurt all those I touch_. I'm ashamed Talia's progeny has inherited so little of her resolve.” If the Hales and the Argents hadn't already been at war, he thinks Talia and Chris' late wife would have gotten along splendidly. Frighteningly similar women.

 

“It will have to be Scott, then.”

 

“Yes.” Peter's sigh is regretful. “I suppose Dudley Do-Right will have to lead the charge. Well, that's your arena. I trust you can maneuver him where he needs to go.”

 

Chris makes a small noise of agreement and then the waitress returns with their food. The shop talk drops off for the next few minutes as they trade plotting for eating. Chris cuts his entire omelet into small, precise pieces before he starts to eat, which is why he's only halfway done when Peter picks up again.

 

“According to Stiles, Danny is still dating Tweedledee or Tweedledum; I can never keep them straight.”

 

“Ethan.”

 

Of _course_ Chris would be able to tell them apart. His perfectionism wouldn't allow anything less. Peter occasionally bemoans the lack of _art_ in Chris' work, but there is nonetheless a certain kind of beauty in the precision Chris employs in its stead. It's a kind of exactness that speaks to all _sorts_ of things boiling beneath that tightly controlled exterior, and one day Peter is going to crack him wide open and let it all spill out. Maybe even literally, once this temporary truce plays out. They are an Argent and a Hale, after all. They have a long and glorious history of killing each other off in incredibly painful and creative ways.

 

“Yes, yes, Ethan. The moderately intelligent one with the pain kink.”

 

Chris presses his lips together like he's trying to fight a smile, but doesn't argue with Peter's assessment. “Why hasn't he been told?”

 

“Oh, same old, same old. He must be _protected_. Because, as you know, that worked so well with the kanima situation and with Lydia. Not that I don't appreciate the lack of communication in Lydia's case. It worked out rather well in my favor. But be as that may -”

 

“I agree. Delay any longer and we risk Danny either being bitten or willingly aligning himself with the alpha pack. He's an asset we can't afford to lose.”

 

“Yes. Young hearts are so easily swayed, wouldn't you say? Impressed with neither logic nor reason.”

 

Chris allows himself a small smile at that. “Didn't someone once say that children are the wisest of fools?”

 

“If not, they should have. As well as the most annoying fools. They run _to_ danger when they should be running away. But, alas, beggars can't be choosers. We work with what we have on the table.”

 

Chris drains the last of his coffee and throws three fives on the table, a generous tipper as always. “You'll arrange for that to happen, then?”

 

“Hmm, yes. One very scary alpha reveal for our young Daniel Mahealani, with you and I there to conveniently pick up the pieces and usher him right along to Scott. Consider it done. I'll let you know when.”

 

“I'll be ready.” With that he stands to go, leaving Peter to linger over a second cup of coffee.

 

“See you next week, Argent.”

 

Chris raises his hand in casual acknowledgment as he walks away. “Next week, Hale.”

 

Peter waits an appropriate amount of time before paying his own bill and following after him. The midnight air is heady and sweet, and he takes a deep breath, filling his lungs. He catches just the faintest trace of gun oil and aftershave and Chris. He inhales again, this time through his mouth, and tastes Chris on his tongue.  Then he gets in his car and drives back home.  There are plans to put into motion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
